Princess
by missoutontheprize
Summary: Dan and Serena enjoy a quiet night to themselves. Established Derena, set early-2021.


_Your princess is too, if you're ready for her._

Dan comes through the front door to see that the house has been massacred by Hurricane Will. It's a mess. Toys, blankets, sippy cups, and children's DVDs are scattered throughout the family room; and he immediately feels bad for leaving his pregnant wife alone with a toddler.

He hears Serena singing a lullaby from upstairs, and follows her voice into the nursery. She smiles when she sees him and he greets her with a kiss, ruffling his son's dark curls.

"Hi honey," she whispers, planting another kiss on his face. She bends down to place a lethargic Will into bed, and Dan immediately takes notice of her pronounced stomach.

Having spent the majority of Serena's second pregnancy on the road promoting his new book, he has missed a lot of important milestones in recent months. This last endeavor kept him on the road for almost three weeks, and it looks like a lot has happened in his absence.

He wants to kick himself, knowing he wasn't there to see the changes in her.

"Staring at my belly?" She smiles, pulling at the material of her pink sweater.

"Well I can't help it, seems you blew up overnight," he shrugs, and she swats his arm playfully. Closing the door behind them, they intertwine their fingers and head back downstairs.

"Have you had anything to eat? There are some leftovers in the fridge," Serena asks from the kitchen, fetching a vanilla yogurt.

"I'll eat after I finish this up," he replies, and she peers out to see he is down on his knees picking up Will's toys.

"Honey, you don't have to—"

"I want to," he smiles, and she finds herself blushing. How does he still have this effect on her more than a decade later?

"Did our kid go on some sort of rampage?" Dan chuckles, as Serena contentedly plops herself down on the couch.

"No, he's just entering the phase where nothing can hold his attention for very long," she replies, her mouth full.

"Except Cedric," he adds, referring to his beloved Cabbage Patch Kid. Dan had insisted on giving him the middle name, and took great pride in the fact that his son was so attached to him. With matching brown curls and blue eyes, he finds that Will is even beginning to resemble the toy.

"Not quite, he's been using him as a ball lately," she informs him, and Dan gasps in mock horror, placing a hand on his heart.

"I'm hoping you put a stop to that."

"Why? This is to be expected of a two-year-old boy. Besides, how much damage could he possibly do?" She asks, and he motions to the messy living room with a smirk.

"Touché. You ready for some dinner yet?" She asks, watching him put away the last of Will's things.

The room is still cluttered, as it has frequently been since Will's birth, but the floor can once again be seen. If Serena is being honest, she much prefers this to the immaculate museum of a home that she was raised in. The clutter makes the house feel cozy, comfortable.

"What do you say to a little late-night picnic?" Dan interrupts her thoughts, two plates of leftover pasta in both hands.

"That it's thirty-five degrees outside," she quips, believing her husband has lost his mind to willingly eat in the cold.

"So? We have blankets," he shrugs, causing Serena to smile.

"Alright, maybe for a little while."

"That's my girl," he says, and she blushes once again.

She grabs the baby monitor before closing the front door behind them, and Dan's eyes soften. Though he selfishly wants her all to himself right now, he loves that she always puts Will first, even refusing the luxury of a nanny. He'd fought her on it, after several months of sleep deprivation, but came to cherish the late nights he spent with his wife and son. He even looks forward to reliving those moments in the upcoming months.

Placing a picnic blanket down on the porch, he takes Serena's hands in his and eases her down. He puts another blanket we over her legs, tucking it underneath her calves before sitting adjacent to her.

"Are you still having morning sickness?" He asks, and she nods as he leans in to kiss her forehead. Being well into her second trimester, he had hoped for her sake it would have subsided by this point.

"Makes me suspect we're having a little girl this time around," she smiles.

"Well, I got us some ginger ale," he offers, handing her the bottle. He remembers that drinking that had helped with her nausea when she'd been pregnant with Will.

They sit in comfortable silence, exchanging tender glances. They have missed each other, desperately, so much that they cannot seem to form the right words.

"How was your appointment yesterday?" He asks, starting a conversation.

Dan had wanted home in time, but was met with an unavoidable crisis when his book signing was pushed back. He had noticed the sonogram photo taped to the fridge.

"Good, they've still got me due at Mother's Day. The technician said that she could tell me the sex, but I was hoping we could find out together next time," she pauses, "when do you have to head out again?" She finally asks.

"Not until this summer," he answers, and Serena is clearly shocked at this.

"Dan, I can't let you do that to your career," she begins softly, afraid that Dan will come to resent her for it. He shakes his head, and she wonders if he can actually read her mind.

"Serena, this is something I want to do. I miss you, I miss Will, I miss our baby," he pats the rounded surface of her stomach, "plus, this allows me to start writing my new novel with my muse right by side."

Etching closer to her, he pulls his wife into a passionate kiss. To show her, convey to her, the longing he has felt for her in the weeks he has been away from her embrace. They finally break away, both out of breath.

"Why are you so good to me?" She whispers, gently stroking his cheek.

"Because you're my princess."


End file.
